


Gamble

by laughablyunimportant



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Brainwashing, Kidnapping, Slaves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2018-06-04 21:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6676102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughablyunimportant/pseuds/laughablyunimportant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It should be noted that he always knew ollieing off into space was a bad idea. </p>
<p>Turns out, it was an even worse idea than he'd thought, for reasons he hadn't even considered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gamble

It should be noted that he always knew ollieing off into space was a bad idea. 

It looked badass, don't get him wrong, and was cool in the lamest, most ironic way possible. But where did you even _go_ from there? Did you just keep floating and floating the empty skies until you breached earth's atmosphere and suffocated in the nothingness of space? 

No. As it turns out, Dave forgot one very important fact: the skies of Earth were not empty. And the Empress always tracks down her enemies.

 

She traced her fingers along the line of his jaw, and he shivered, but didn't pull away. If anyone had asked him before, he would have told them Dave Strider couldn't be broken. Dave Strider was a paradigm of strength and would go down with this motherfucking ship, lips sealed and mind intact. 

Dave Strider was a fool. And the Condesce had a special place in her heart for teaching fools the extent of their stupidity. 

The collar was embarrassing as hell, but at least it meant he knew his boundaries, knew how close to stay to her. She didn't need to reel him in by the lead much anymore, a gentle pull or twitch conveyed her intent readily enough, and then he was scrambling to obey, hoping to avoid the trident or the unpleasant tingle of psionics running across his skin. 

She scratched and pet him and called him 'dear,' and he tried very, very hard to not think about anything at all. But even his mind betrays him, giving him fragments of memories and half-remembered ghosts. 

He can't recall what Rose looks like, anymore, though he knows vaguely that she was beautiful, in that way that made his heart ache and pound so forcefully he literally thought she'd put a spell on him, the first time they met. Her voice was soft lilting velvet, warm and dark and _there_ for him, when nothing else was. 

She told him that their fight was over. There was nothing good for them left to do. He said he wanted to go out with a bang, and she'd given him that sad smile, the smile of someone who knows what comes next, and is still helpless for it. 

She tried to rescue him. She had to have known it wouldn't work, with her whole third-eye seer shit. But she tried anyway. He can still remember her screams, the taste of her blood running hot on his tongue as he tore her throat out with his teeth, they way it felt slithering down his throat and swallowed, because if he stopped now, if he spat it out, everything would come out and the jig would be up. 

Rose understood. The Condesce didn't. She didn't see the crackle and crawl of dark tendrils, the way the ash-grey tone of Rose's skin started before she'd lost any real blood. She didn't understand the sacrifice Dave was making, his sanity for Rose's, or the desperate bid that the Condesce would be so furious with him for killing a potential new pet that she'd kill him, too. 

Instead, she rewarded him, gave him special, alone time with her. 

He always had the worst luck.


End file.
